A Camping We Will Go
by leev
Summary: While on a school-sponsored camping trip, Virgil and Richie face trouble in the form of Ebon and some other unfriendlies. Slash (VR), non-con and attempted non-con.
1. Camp Dakota

She-Back! This was going to be a simple little one-shot, but Ebon got some nasty ideas. It won't be a huge thing, only three or four chapters (I hope).

Anyway, this is slash with Virgil and Richie. There will be non-con and attempted non-con, bad language and attempted bad language.

For those of you waiting, the sequel to InHuman Touch is almost ready. I should get the first chapter up in the next two weeks. The sequel will be called "Sins of the Mother." Guess why.

I don't own Static Shock, but I do own..ummm..let me see...I'll have to get back to you on that.

* * *

The ancient school bus dragged itself up the side of the last hill. The passengers held their breath as they waited to see if the dilapidated vehicle would make it. With a brief pause at the crest, the bus crept forward and flung itself down the other side. The babble of excited teenagers could be heard echoing through the valley. The twenty students from Dakota High School, all top achievers in science, were being rewarded for their hard work by a weekend of camping and scientific exploration in Dakota Hills National Park.

Seventeen-year-old Virgil Hawkins sat in the last seat next to his best friend and lover Richie Foley, also seventeen. Their superhero alter egos, Static Shock and Gear, had been partners for two years; the boys had become partners in all things six months ago. Although a little concerned that their personal feelings would interfere with their duties, their newfound physical relationship only served to enhance their working relationship. Their rapport in battle conditions was uncanny. Static and Gear were now as famous in Dakota and the surrounding territory as Batman and Robin were in Gotham City and its environs. They had been called upon more than once to assist the Justice League; not too often, and not anything too life threatening - they were, after all, high school kids.

Richie, a Big Bang-enhanced super genius, excelled in all things academic. Virgil was an average student in most subjects, but he had a gift for science. Their high scores during the spring semester earned them positions on this trip, which would gain all the participants credit at the local college.

Richie leaned into Virgil and said, "When we get to the site, let's wait until everybody else picks a spot, then pitch our tent at the end. That way, we can sneak away easier."

"Why would we want to sneak away?" asked Virgil with a smile as he put his arm around his boyfriend.

A light blush stole over Richie's pale cheeks.

"V, you know how loud we get. We fixed that rat problem at the gas station in a week!"

"Are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet because of my fine lovin'?" Virgil licked Richie's neck and gently nibbled at the tender flesh. He was careful not to leave a mark. It would be a little awkward explaining how Richie came to have an identical love bite as Gear, not to mention explaining to Mr. Foley how Richie got said love bite. While the man had grown tolerant of Richie's friendship with Virgil, he would be less than pleased that Richie was in love with the dark-skinned boy.

"Me?" exclaimed Richie. "You're the one who screamed himself hoarse when your Dad and Sharon were out of the house last month." Richie grinned smugly as he remembered that stolen moment and the patrol they shared later that night. It had been up to Gear to shout down the bad guys because Static was too embarrassed by his pubescent squeak to even open his mouth.

Virgil had to smile. That had been a good time. Richie wasn't usually the aggressor in their relationship so when he took charge it was always something special. Especially when he put that brain of his to work and thought up new and interesting ways to kill Virgil with pleasure.

"Care to put your money where your voice is? I bet that I can make you scream before you can make me. Deal?"

Richie quirked a golden-blonde eyebrow at Virgil. "What do I win?"

Virgil thought quickly. "If you win, I buy you the new Plant Man DVD. You know, the one with the missing scenes."

Ooooh. Richie had been salivating over that one, but with most of his allowance going to Gear-stuff, he had a hard time saving up for it. Mom had said she would get it for him for Christmas, but that was months away. "And if by some remote chance you "squeak" out a win, what do you want?"

Virgil needed no extra thought for this one.

"I want you to serve me breakfast in bed next Saturday."

Richie frowned. "Breakfast in bed? You actually want to let Sharon's 'Egg-Surprise' loose in your room?"

"I'm thinking oatmeal with maple syrup."

Richie smiled at that. He made awesome oatmeal as Virgil had discovered the last time he stayed at Casa Foley. "Fine. If you win, I'll make oatmeal and serve it to you in bed. Deal?"

"Not quite," replied Virgil. He leaned closer and whispered, "I want you to serve it naked." Virgil let his mind wander. Naked Richie. Warm syrup. Damn. He was getting hard just thinking about it. _'Calm down, Junior. We haven't won yet.'_

Richie's big blue eyes had grown even bigger and his mouth had formed into a perfect 'O'.

"You are twisted," said Richie as he gifted Virgil with a sloppy kiss. "But in a good way. Now I don't know if I even want to win."

Eventually, the bus clattered to a stop. The chaperones, Ms. Pettibone and Mr. Boyle, herded the teenagers off the bus and helped each teen to locate their backpacks. Gear's Backpack, along with his uniform, was secured beneath the bus. Virgil kept his uniform and disk in his ever-present knapsack.

Everyone pitched in to unload the school-provided tents, camping gear, and supplies. Before the kids could dig in and set up their tents, the teachers called everyone together for a briefing.

"All right everyone, listen up! Your tent assignments are as follows…" Virgil and Richie listened with growing horror as they realized that, due to the alphabetical arrangement, Richie would be sharing a tent with Keith Eggers while Virgil would be stuck with Taylor Harding. Taylor was cool and wouldn't mind if Virgil snuck away from camp, but Keith was a total suck-up. He would love to get someone, i.e. Richie, in trouble. Richie continually outshone Keith at school. Keith had been the brainiest kid in school until Richie's smarts kicked in, and the other boy had been jealous ever since.

With barely concealed grumbling, the teens found their assigned partners and received their portion of supplies. Keith and Richie's tent was pitched right next to Mr. Boyle's, while Virgil convinced Taylor to hang back and make camp furthest from the chaperones.

The heat of the day lingered as the students finished preparing their camp and the tools they would use for their experiments the next morning.

Nestled in the valley of some of the wildest country this side of the Rocky Mountains, it was no surprise that the teachers' cell phones wouldn't work. The short-wave radio in the bus couldn't reach over the hilly territory either. If there were an emergency, they would have to contact Dakota by climbing an hour to the top of the hill in order to obtain cell reception. It was a decent plan.

It was too bad that they missed the warning about the escape that took place a few miles away.

* * *

It was one of those strange coincidences that result in the most unusual of events. A late-season flu bug forced a change in the driver of the prisoner transfer van. Normally, this would not have been problematic. However, the new driver was a talkative sort. He spent the evening before at his favorite bar telling anyone who would listen of his important job transferring a former meta-human and some other fairly infamous criminals from the high-security prison in the Dakota Hills to the medium-security institution across the Dakota River.

It so happened that another former meta-human was in the bar that night. A drink or two and a friendly game of pool garnered the dark-haired man the route the van would be taking as well as the timetable.

Shiv had been waiting for this opportunity. He had never been the biggest fish in the Meta-Breed, but he had enough power, his own and the invisible backing of Ebon, to keep him safe from the other lowlifes that drifted through Dakota's seedier areas. After Ebon had been arrested, the rest of the Breed soon fell to Static and Gear. All had received the cure whether they wanted it or not. Shiv managed to convince a judge that his actions were a result of the mutation the Big Bang had forced on his body. He was released after only six months in a rehabilitation facility.

He kept a low profile. No one would hire him for a respectable position. He had to survive on the lowest, most menial jobs he could find until he could figure out how to get back on top. The things he had to do didn't bother him. Not much, anyway. Ebon had trained him pretty good.

When Shiv heard the loudmouth at the end of the bar talking about a big time Bang Baby, his ears perked up. He let the man talk a bit more until he figured out who the Bang Baby was - Ebon! Things would be so much better for him if Ebon were back in Dakota. That's when Shiv decided to launch a rescue.

The next day, he stole a car and some tools he thought would be useful and headed out into the Dakota hills. He found a likely spot and pulled over. Before he could open his trunk, a yellow bus full of kids, most only a few years younger than Shiv, passed by. Thankful that the driver was too busy to stop and see if he needed help, Shiv used his stolen chainsaw to cut down a tree.

'_This was a lot easier with my blades.'_ Shiv definitely missed his meta-human powers.

He was sweating as he finished putting the tree into position. He checked his watch. He had about twenty minutes before Ebon's van ran into his little ambush. Shiv hid the car and hunkered down behind the tree line to wait.

The van was a few minutes behind schedule. Shiv wasn't surprised. The driver had been putting them away pretty good last night. Poor bastard was probably hung over, and his day would only get worse.

The van rounded the curve; it was going too fast to avoid the felled tree blocking the road. The driver made the attempt anyway and wrenched the steering wheel to the side. The van hit the tree at an angle, flipped over, and rolled several yards before coming to a stop on its now flattened wheels.

'_Uh-oh. Ebon's gonna be pissed.'_ Shiv felt like an idiot. He should have thought of another way to stop the van. What if Ebon were hurt? What if he were dead? Then who would help Shiv get out of his hellish life?

He crept from his hiding place and approached the van. As he reached for the door, it burst open from the inside. Two orange-clad men were struggling with another man, obviously one of the prison guards. The blond managed to wrest the gun from the guard. Without offering a chance for surrender, the blond fired and the guard fell to the ground. He would not get up again.

* * *

Next chapter - the escape, the attempted escape, and the capture. Review? 


	2. No Trouble At All

Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! It is my intent to finish this soon and get at least the first chapter of _Sins of the Mother _up ASAP - I am starting graduate school in a few weeks, and I don't anticipate having enough time to pump blood through my body, much less write often. Don't give up on me, though!

**Kali -** Shiv strikes me as the eternal tagalong - neither strong enough nor confident enough to make his own path in life. He needs somebody to take control, which Ebon is happy to do. Beware - Ebon/Shiv!

**Estel Baggins -** D'oh! I didn't even check my tapes to see if they named the darned school. Oh well, I'll make it right in future chapters. On my figures for the boys - you're right, Virgil was fourteen when he got his powers, but Richie didn't evolve into Gear until season three. I am giving them one year of just Static, so that leaves two years of superhero partnership until they reach the ripe old crime-busting age of seventeen. Also, I am having the guys be 'out' except for Richie's dad.

**Snake Mistress -** Not too many twists in this one, just straightforward action!

**Phoenix87 -** Hee-hee-hee! I think everyone will be pleasantly surprised by the identity of the "unfriendlies." I had a lot of fun writing them, but they were just as stubborn and snarky to me as they are onscreen.

**astalder27 -** I am worried for my little Richie, and I'm the author!

**Valkyrie-alex -** Thanks for the caution. I'll try to keep from doing that, but you know how it goes. There's so much you want the reader to know/understand before you get to the main plot that it sneaks in there. Alas, I have gone without a nickname for most of my life. I am, however, at times known as LL Cool V. I actually have a T-shirt with that on it! LL Cool J is a favorite actor of mine. I don't know that I've ever actually heard any of his music, though.

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed. Your reviews are as precious as H2O.

There is bad language (Ebon) and boy on boy action in this part (V/R). If you don't like slash, you shouldn't read this story.

On with the show (which I don't own).

* * *

"Excellent shot, Mr. Trapper," commented the brunette in the orange jumpsuit. 

"Why, thank you, Mr. Specs," replied the blond as he turned and nonchalantly shot the unlucky van driver in the back. Trapper noticed several spots on his friend's sleeve were sticky with blood. "You're injured."

Specs flexed his arms. "It's just a scratch." He nodded towards the van and said, "The safety restraints on these models are state-of-the-art."

"Lucky for us."

"Indeed, Mr. Trapper.. But just how lucky remains to be seen." Specs' eyes narrowed as the last living passenger exited the van.

Ivan "Ebon" Evans was a tall, lean, very handsome black man in his mid-twenties. Although his face was unscarred, his eyes showed a lifetime of hardship. He glared at the other two prisoners and shouldered past Trapper, unmindful of the gun in the blonde's hands. Ebon lifted the keys from the dead guard on the ground and quickly freed himself from the handcuffs and leg irons.

Specs held out his own bound wrists for his turn at freedom. Ebon sneered and tossed the keys to the ground.

Trapper pointed the gun. "That wasn't very polite. Apologize to Mr. Specs."

Ebon's smirk never moved as the barrel of Shiv's .357 Magnum was pressed into Specs' neck.

"Didn't your mamma teach you that it isn't polite to point?" Shiv was proud of how tough he sounded. "Put the gun down."

"Do what he says, Mr. Trapper," said Specs. A bead of sweat, not necessarily from the heat of the afternoon, trickled down his face.

The guard's purloined weapon was eased to the ground. Trapper backed off as Ebon claimed it for his own. Trapper asked, "What now?"

"Now," said Ebon, "we're outta here. Let's go, Shiv."

"Uh, Ebon, about that. There's a teeny problem."

Ebon grabbed Shiv by the throat and thrust him against the van. "What problem?"

"Well you see, I was expecting the driver to stop before hitting the tree so that we could take the van. The car I stole to get up here? It's kinda…" Shiv paused trying to think of the best way to phrase his latest screw-up.

"Kinda what?" The question was punctuated by another shove into the twisted metal.

"Dead. It was a piece of junk. The electrical system shorted out after I hid it in the brush."

Ebon threw Shiv to the ground and stalked to the driver side of the van. It took two strong tugs to open the door; the driver's body was pulled out and allowed to fall unchecked. Ignoring the blood-spattered upholstery, Ebon seated himself behind the wheel and tried unsuccessfully to start the van. He bashed his fists against the dash.

"Shiv! You stupid fuck! You can't do anything right!"

While Ebon was haranguing the smaller man, Trapper and Specs removed their own chains.

"What day is today, Mr. Trapper?"

"Friday, Mr. Specs. The twenty-first."

"It's also the first week of the spring quarter for the high school dweebs. Which means…"

Trapper immediately grasped Specs' idea. "Excellent, Mr. Specs! Shall we clue in the Neanderthals?"

"Why not? We'll let them do all the grunt work." Specs and Trapper rounded the van and tried to catch the attention of the combatants.

"Ahem."

Ebon ceased pounding on Shiv long enough to glare at the pair. "What do you want?"

Trapper responded, "We have an idea for transportation. Mr. Specs?"

"Thank you, Mr. Trapper. For the last twenty years, Dakota Union High has been sending its gifted upperclassmen for a little campout up here in the hills." Air quotes and a disgusted sneer highlighted Trapper's thoughts on the adjective 'gifted' being applied to anyone but himself and Mr. Specs.

Shiv pulled himself to his feet and stood by Ebon. "Who cares about high school kids?"

Trapper glared at the purple-haired man. "I don't care about a bunch of sniveling brats. I do care that this is the school's traditional weekend to bring the simpletons out here."

"So?" was Shiv's snappy comeback.

"So, moron, the kids had to get up here somehow."

Shiv's expression turned thoughtful, an unusual look for him. "A bus with a bunch of kids passed by just before I took down the tree. That was probably them!"

Specs adjusted the glasses on his face and said, "And, as the only truly gifted students Dakota has ever produced, Mr. Trapper and I have previously participated in their little field trips. We know exactly where they set the campsite. It's a few miles down the road. They use the same place every year."

The men scavenged what they could from the guards and the van. With Trapper and Specs in the lead, they set off for the youth science expedition.

* * *

He was being followed. That didn't bother Richie as much as the fact that Keith sucked at surveillance. The boy was stepping on dry leaves and making little yelps whenever he tripped. It was actually embarrassing how bad this guy was at tailing someone. With a sly grin, Richie hid behind a wall of trees and began hooting. He knew Keith's strigiformophobia would drive him away. He was right. Three hoots into Richie's act, and Keith ran shrieking from the forest. 

Richie was still chuckling when a hand clamped over his mouth and a strong arm jerked him back to an obviously male body. The way the hand on his stomach began to caress him, combined with that unique musky scent, eased his fear. He twisted in the now gentle embrace and met Virgil's lips with his own.

Virgil had sneaked away earlier and prepared a spot in the woods for the two lovers. He maneuvered Richie through the brush and trees until they came to a clearing. It was far enough away to offer them some privacy, yet close enough to the main camp to hear if someone started calling for them.

In the middle of Virgil's clearing, a sleeping bag had been spread on the soft grass. Virgil stripped Richie of his t-shirt, leaving the blond in baggy cut-offs and sneakers. He kissed his way voraciously down Richie's throat and chest and gently eased him onto the down-filled material. Richie wrapped his legs around Virgil and the lovers began thrusting against one another. They paused only long enough for Virgil to lose his own shirt. Bare skin rubbed bare skin while cloth-covered erections ground into one another.

Virgil felt completely in tune with his body. He could feel his blood racing through his extremities and could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His thrusts picked up speed, striving to match the pulse of his heartbeat. He sought Richie's mouth with his own and melded their lips together. Virgil was drowning in everything that was Richie, and he didn't want to be saved.

Physiological necessity demanded they break apart long enough to take in oxygen. As the teens gulped for air, they heard shouts from the direction of camp. Richie groaned and let his head drop back onto the bag. Damn. It was Mr. Boyle calling for Richie. Keith must have tattled.

Richie gave Virgil a half-smile and nudged the young man onto his side. "Sorry, bro. I better get back before he calls for reinforcements. Is Taylor covering for you?"

"Yeah," Virgil sighed. "I'll give you ten minutes, then sneak back to the tent. We'll try this again after everyone goes to sleep. I still have a bet to win."

Richie smiled, kissed Virgil soundly, and then headed off into the woods. Virgil, still laying on the ground, stared forlornly at his groin. It didn't seem to realize that playtime was over. Virgil bit his lip and smiled. His favorite playmate might be gone, but that didn't mean he couldn't kill some time. He had ten minutes. No prob.

* * *

The escaped prisoners and the abettor had cut through the woods, thus escaping the grueling climb the school bus had made earlier in the day. The four men on the hillside observed the activity in the camp below. They had seen one young man burst from the trees and run to one of the adults. The men moved closer. It looked like there might be an emergency; they would have to move in and take the bus immediately. 

The coming darkness was on the side of the prisoners. They were able to get next to the bus before they were noticed. Ms. Pettibone was moving to assist one of her students when she was grabbed by Ebon. The students in the area screamed.

"Quiet!" demanded Ebon as he raised the gun. "Everybody keep your mouth shut and you won't get hurt. If you've got a cell phone or a walkie-talkie, you've got two minutes to bring them to me. I want canteens and food as well. If I find you're holding out, you're dead. Now move!"

Teens scattered to do as the dark man bid. They were too scared not to obey. When he had a small pile of electronics and camping supplies before him, Ebon released Ms. Pettibone and shoved her into the arms of Mr. Boyle. Trapper and Specsgathered the equipment and supplies and threw them into the luggage boot.

"Who has the keys?"

Mr. Boyle pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them into Shiv's waiting hands. Shiv scrambled inside and started the engine.

At that moment, Richie burst from the woods. He had his glasses off and was attempting to clean them on his jean shorts. He noticed everyone gathered near the bus. Had someone been hurt?

"What's going on?" Richie put on his glasses. Oh, shit.

Ebon gaped at the blond in shock. "Well, well, well. This just got more interesting. And maybe a whole lot more profitable."

"What do you mean?" asked Specs. He and Trapper didn't know the teen.

Ebon gestured for Richie to come nearer. With no real choice due to the danger to the teachers and students, the boy did as he was bid.

"You know how Superman always rushes in to save Lois Lane?"

"The reporter? Yes, of course, but what does that have to do with this nobody?"

"Meet Static Shock's very own Lois."

Richie adjusted his glasses and said, "I've always considered myself more the Jimmy Olsen-type."

Ebon grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him close. Whispering so no one could overhear he said, "I've always considered you my type."

He thrust Richie towards the bus. "He's coming with us. We'll need a hostage in case the cops get too close." Ebon handcuffed the young man and pushed him onto the bus.

"Mr. Trapper, I think we should invite someone else on our upcoming journey."

"Right, Mr. Specs." Trapper pointed to one of the young people surrounding them. "You!"

"Me?" came the shaky voice.

"Get over here. You're going on a little trip."

Keith shuddered as his hands were cuffed behind his body and he was forced onto the bus. He heard Richie yell something at the black man. Well, that did it. There was nothing Richie Foley could do that Keith couldn't do better. He'd show him. He'd show everybody. Keith would go with these guys and escape to find the cops. He'd be a hero and Richie would be grateful. Thoughts of a grateful Richie gave him something other than fear to concentrate on.

"Please," begged Mr. Boyle as he banged on the side of the bus. "Leave the boys here. I'll go with you. I promise I won't make any trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble," replied Trapper as the bus began to pull out. He shot Mr. Boyle between the eyes and laughed as the body fell to the ground.

"No trouble at all."

* * *

Next chapter - Static misses his Jimmy and the non-con portion of our programming. 


	3. A Dark and Stormy Night

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope you enjoy this chapter and drop me a line or three.

**Warning** - There is non-consensual touching/sex in this chapter. I don't think the on-screen stuff is too graphic and the hard-core stuff is mostly off-screen. And Ebon is a potty-mouth. Please don't read if any of this bothers you.

**Disclaimer** - I don't own Static Shock or their characters. Keith and Taylor are mine. I don't take very good care of my toys, do I?

* * *

With each moment, the bus pulled further and further away from the campsite. Keith noted that the dark-haired man, Shiv, was driving, and the other three bad guys were lined up beside him. They were talking quietly and were staring out the front windshield. Keith was sitting in the seat behind the driver, and Richie was sitting on his left next to the window. 

Keith turned his head to stare at Richie. The blond was about an inch taller, but right now he was hunched in on himself and looked very small. Keith didn't know what the black man had said to Richie, but it had obviously unsettled the other teen. That scared Keith. Richie was smart and cocky and funny and never took any crap from the jocks at school. He could joke his way out of any situation. A cowed Richie wasn't right. Keith had to do something.

He scooted to the edge of the seat. He waited until the bus was on a straightaway, then reached forward and wrapped his manacles around Shiv's throat. Using his feet as leverage he pulled with all his might.

Shiv slammed on the brakes as he tried to loosen the chains at his throat. The bus shuddered to a stop, and the three unseated men were thrown through the windshield while Shiv was soon rendered unconscious. Richie had been thrown into the back of the driver's seat and had landed on the floor near Keith's feet.

Keith reached down and helped Richie to stand. The blond was shaken up, so Keith helped him out of the bus. The teens could hear sirens approaching and in the distance a bright light was gaining in brilliance. The light coalesced into the concerned figure of Static Shock.

"Richie! I heard what happened over the police band. Are you OK?"

Richie replied, "I'm fine. Keith, I'd like you to meet Static Shock, my friend. Static, this is Keith Eggers - my hero." Keith nodded at Static, but his eyes were all for Richie. The blond teen smiled warmly at Keith and moved closer. Keith closed his eyes as Richie's face neared his own.

The bus hit a pothole and his head smacked into the floorboards; Keith was jolted from his daydream. _Damn. Just when it was getting good._ He would have to try and make his dream a reality. It would be a little tougher than his fantasy, though. Shiv was at the wheel just like in his dream, but the two guys who kidnapped him were sitting behind the driver; the black man was in the seat across the aisle.

Richie and he were face down on the floor of the bus with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Richie's eyes were closed and his lips were moving. _Was he praying?_ Keith squirmed closer until their bodies were touching, his right side against Richie's left. The blue eyes, framed by wire-rimmed glasses, popped open in surprise.

"It'll be OK, Richie," whispered Keith. "I won't let them hurt you."

Richie, who was not known for his silence, could only gape at Keith, completely dumbfounded. Geeky little Keith Eggers was trying to comfort him, Gear the superhero. Was actually offering his protection. Of course, Keith had no idea about Richie's alter ego. It was terribly sweet. Richie was about to reply when he was kicked in the side by Ebon.

"Keep your mouth shut or I'll find some other use for it."

'Quiet was good,' thought Richie. 'Quiet was just fine.' Richie closed his eyes and tried again to subvocalize a command to Backpack. He had been upset about being cut off from the little robot when Dr. Todd's Bang Baby cure took full effect. After the second Big Bang, Richie had modified his creation so that it would accept, interpret, and respond to his or Virgil's vocal directions. _Let's hope BP has his receivers on 'high.'_

"Backpack! Start the homing beacon for Static, then alert the cops and give our location. If you can, figure out a way to disable the bus. Stick close and keep signaling." Richie repeated the orders a few times, hoping they got through. Richie had done all he could. His job now was to keep himself and Keith safe until Static found them. _Which would be soon._

Lightning streaked across the sky and rain poured from the heavens.

_Or maybe not._

* * *

After taking care of his immediate 'problem,' Virgil packed up and slowly made his way back to the campsite. He could hear the echoes of an engine - the school bus? Were they going somewhere? Virgil stepped up his pace but moments later froze in shock as he heard the unmistakable report of a gunshot. That was a sound forever associated in his mind with pain and gut-wrenching fear. His mom and the riots. Richie and Jimmy. _Oh, God. Richie!_

Virgil ran the rest of the way to the camp, dodging trees and shrubs that seemed to magically appear in his path. He couldn't be late. Not again.

As he cleared the tree line, Virgil saw two things immediately. One, the bus was gone; and two, the other students were crying and were gathered in a circle near the middle of camp. His heart clenched painfully and as he edged closer to the center of the circle, many of the students were looking at him with various degrees of sorrow and pity on their faces. That scared Virgil more than anything.

Finally, he could see the center of the circle. Ms. Pettibone was kneeling by a still form on the ground. Her shoulders were shaking with her sobs and her hands, which she had wrapped around herself in a body hug, were streaked with blood. At first, Virgil's fear would only allow him to see the shock of blond hair on the corpse's head. When the spots faded from his vision, he could see that it was Mr. Boyce and not his Richie who lay dead in the…mud? When had it started to rain?

Virgil kneeled next to Ms. Pettibone and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned glassy eyes on him. "Ms. Pettibone? What happened?"

One of the girls brought over a tarpaulin. Ms. Pettibone smiled tremulously and allowed her, Virgil, and Taylor to cover Steven Boyce's body. It was the best they could do for now. She overheard the girl, Daisy, tell Virgil what had taken place. _The poor boy. He and Richie were very close._

The teacher managed to pull herself together. She was the adult here. She couldn't wallow in self-pity even though her boyfriend was dead. She had to take care of the kids and get them to safety.

"Everyone gather round, please. Gather round." The teenagers gravitated toward their teacher. "Did anyone keep a cell phone?" The heads all shook 'no.' They had believed the dark man when he said he would kill them if they held anything back.

"Let's pair up and get into our tents. I'll go for help as soon as the rain eases." She held up her hand to stop the protests she knew were coming. "We can't do anything about Richie and Keith right now. I'll get to a phone, and the police will find them and bring them home."

Virgil, Daisy, and Taylor stayed behind as the other kids broke into their groups and returned to their tents. It took all of Virgil's willpower to remain where he was when Daisy had told him about the invaders. She knew Trapper and Specs, of course, and she had described the others well enough for him to know that Ebon and Shiv were also involved in Richie's kidnapping.

"Ms. Pettibone! I don't think that we should wait. The rain could last for hours."

"Virgil, no. It's dark, you don't know these woods, and the nearest ranger station is miles away. You'd never make it, and I can't allow you to endanger yourself. You three need to go back to your tents and get warm and dry. I'll let everyone know when I leave. Daisy, you'll be in charge while I'm gone."

Ms. Pettibone returned to her own tent and gathered some things for her upcoming trek. She was emptying her backpack of unnecessary items when a silver-wrapped package fell out. Her hands shook as she unraveled the ribbon, removed the paper, and opened the box. A diamond engagement ring shimmered in the beam of her flashlight. The words, "Brenda, will you marry me?" were visible in Steven's untidy scrawl.

The three teens could hear their teacher crying, though the rain and thunder drowned out most of the sounds.

"Taylor, Daisy, I'm going for help." Virgil touched Daisy's shoulder. "No way can I just sit here while those guys have Richie and Keith. I have to go get help."

"But, Virgil, Ms. Pettibone said…"

"Ms. Pettibone and Mr. Boyce were real close. She's in shock. I don't want her wandering around in the dark in her condition. Stay here and help her with the others."

Taylor volunteered to accompany Virgil. As they packed food, water, and first aid supplies, along with dry clothes, they decided that they would follow the road, but the boys would each go in different directions. It eased Virgil's mind. He had planned on going after Richie, then contacting the police. Now, Taylor could get help for those still in the camp in case it took a long time for Virgil to find the missing teens. The boys headed out and wished one another luck as they parted ways.

Virgil had crammed as many towels into his backpack as possible. He had to get dried off and figure out a way to fly through this downpour without shorting out. If he couldn't fly, who knew how long it would take to catch up to Richie.

* * *

The bus had broken down and the geniuses couldn't figure out how to fix it. Richie had an idea what was wrong, but he couldn't very well point out the sear marks where a small robot had severed vital connections. Good old Backpack. 

Richie listened to the former prisoners arguing about their next move. He couldn't get over how much the two scientists had changed. Specs was even colder and more sarcastic, if that was possible, but Trapper seemed so _vicious _now. Not that he wasn't always an evil jerk, but as far as Richie knew he had never killed anyone before. Now, two guards were dead and Mr. Boyce was either dead or seriously injured.

Richie and Keith were chained to the wheels on the right side of the bus; Richie was at the front end and Keith was placed at the rear. Richie hoped to get Backpack to loosen the chains so that he and Keith could sneak away in the darkness, but he had yet to make contact. The rain was still coming down, though it had dwindled to a drizzle. In complete opposition to the stifling heat of the day, it was cold.

Thankfully, Ebon hadn't made any other sexual innuendos. That had totally creeped Richie out. Ebon had been a _little _touchy-feely when binding Richie to the bus, but Richie could handle that. It wasn't the first time he had been touched without permission. Speaking of brainiacs, Trapper and Specs were leaning out the window, taunting their captives.

"Their minds might be sponges, Mr. Specs, but I don't think their bodies are. They look a little damp."

"You're right, Mr. Trapper. Maybe we should invite them in. We could take turns warming them up."

"What are you in the mood for, Mr. Specs? Blonde or brunette?"

Richie didn't like the direction this conversation was headed. "I always thought you two made a cute couple. Getting bored with each other already?"

"Our decision has been made for us, Mr. Trapper." Specs stepped off the bus with Trapper close behind. They stood on either side of Richie. "Your big mouth just bought you a wild ride."

Ebon, overhearing their conversation, stepped out and said, "Back off. Foley is off limits until I get what I want."

Specs sniffed. He wasn't sure what the ex-Bang Baby was up to, but he would play along for now. "Fine. We'll take the little one."

Richie could only watch as they unlocked Keith's cuffs and dragged him into the bus. The pair ignored his pleas for them to stop. Ebon squatted beside the bare-chested blond and placed his hand on Richie's cheek. Richie shuddered.

"You're freezing. Better get you warmed up."

"N-no. I'm fine. I love nature." Ebon smirked at Richie's protestations and released him from the chains. Richie flexed his hands several times in an attempt to restart the circulation.

Ebon caught Richie's arm in a bruising grip to prevent him from running. Richie wouldn't have run; he couldn't leave without Keith. It was his fault the other boy was caught up in this mess. If Richie hadn't bumbled out of the woods when he did, the bad guys would probably have left semi-peacefully.

Richie's mind was racing. He allowed himself to be maneuvered onto the bus and next to a soft nest of blankets and a double sleeping bag.

"Strip," ordered Ebon. When Richie hesitated, Ebon grabbed him by the belt loops and pulled him forward.

Richie had to keep telling himself not to fight back. Not yet. Ebon was bigger and stronger than he was; he also had a gun tucked into his belt. Shiv was curled up in the driver's seat and had a gun as well, so the front exit was blocked. Trapper and Specs were likewise armed and blocked the rear exit. He would have to bide his time and try to keep his head. His and Keith's lives depended on it.

His resolve was greatly tested when Ebon's hands unzipped Richie's shorts and let them drop. His boxers followed. Ebon knelt in front of the nude blonde and ran a hand up the inside of Richie's calf. Richie twitched and Ebon lifted his captive's leg to remove muddy shoes and socks.

Richie met Ebon's hungry gaze with a mixture of anger, fear, and stubborn pride. As vulnerable as Richie was - no clothing, out in the middle of nowhere and the prisoner of desperate men - the young man would not drop his eyes. Ebon could only stare at the pretty blond who had featured in more than a few of his dreams while in prison.

The boy's golden hair was plastered to his skull. Raindrops decorated his body like diamonds. Ebon followed the trail of one rivulet as it moved from Richie's hairline, to his neck, then to his chest, only to linger at the tip of a taut pink nubbin hardened from the cold. Ebon could not resist the lure of that droplet; he leaned forward while pulling Richie closer and took the nipple into his mouth. He heard the startled gasp from above and felt the young man's hands on his shoulders trying to push him away.

Ebon let his treat slip from his lips. He drew the teen on top of the pallet and pushed him down onto the dry blankets. He quickly stripped off his own wet t-shirt, but left his trousers on. Ebon pulled Richie against his body and curled around him. He licked an exposed ear and whispered, "Get some sleep, beautiful, and relax. I'm gonna keep you cherry till Static gives me what I want."

Richie allowed some of the tension to leak from his muscles and asked, "What do you want?"

Ebon pulled some blankets over their entwined bodies before replying, "Power. I'm betting that old man Alva hasn't given up on his little genetic experiments. Static is gonna have to convince him to give up some of that Bang Baby gas he's got stashed away if the hero wants you back."

Ebon moved his hands lower on Richie's body and stroked the soft, soft skin just above the nest of blond curls. "But as soon as I get my Meta-human powers back, I'm coming for you." _And you'll be coming for me - over and over again._

Richie tried to breathe normally as Ebon continued to touch him where no one but Virgil had ever been allowed. He could handle it, so long as Ebon kept his word about not taking him against his will.

Richie turned his head so that he could see Ebon's face. "Please. Keith. They're going to hurt him. Can't you do something? Can't you make them stop?"

Ebon licked Richie's shoulder and said, "Those freaks been locked up in solitary for too long. Only way to stop 'em now is to cuts their dicks off."

"So you won't do anything?"

"No." Ebon returned to nuzzling the teen's neck.

Richie's guilt at his classmate's torture wouldn't let him rest. He twisted his body in Ebon's arms and quietly asked, "What if you could have something you want in exchange for protecting Keith?"

"Like what?"

"Like me," replied Richie.

"I've already got you."

"Not willingly. But I could be."

Ebon felt like he had been punched in the gut. Having this young man as a lover and not as a victim or a whore? None of his dreams had ever considered such a possibility.

But no. Richie might mean what he says right now but when it was time to come through? Different story. Ebon would stick to his original plan - with his powers back, he would be able to force Richie to stay with him forever. And really, who cared if the blond were willing? Ebon would still get to fuck him whenever he wanted.

On the other hand…

"Maybe you should give me a little sample of what I might be risking my ass for."

Richie steeled himself to do what he had never done before. He was going to intentionally kiss a man who was not Virgil.

Richie put his hands on either side of Ebon's face and pulled him closer. Richie licked his lips and pressed them softly to Ebon's. Their mouths opened slightly and their tongues touched, tasting one another.

Richie had started the kiss, but Ebon took control. He rolled on top of Richie and thrust his tongue into the warm cavern. Richie kept himself in check and did not fight the kisses or the accompanying touches.

"God you taste so fucking good. You smell so fucking good." Ebon left Richie's mouth to kiss and nibble along the blonde's face and neck. Ebon could feel his control slipping. The warming body in in his arms spurred his arousal.

Positioned as he was, Richie could feel the evidence of Ebon's desire pressing against his thigh. Enough. He pushed Ebon's shoulders and turned his face away.

"I promise. I promise I'll do what you want, but you have to help Keith. Please!"

A wail erupted from the rear of the bus. The pain and fear laced in those chords made Richie cringe. Other sounds followed - the harsh sound of flesh slapping against flesh, rough breathing, sobbing.

"Too late, beautiful. Guess those boys couldn't hold their load any longer."

Richie was furious. He had tolerated this man's humiliating touch all for nothing. Keith was being horribly violated by not one but two vile excuses for human beings. As Ebon lowered his head for another kiss, Richie gripped the short hairs at the base of Ebon's scalp and roughly twisted. The resulting bellow of pain was gratifying.

The resulting backhand to Richie's face was not.

Richie followed up with a knee to the groin, but Ebon was too quick for the move to be effective. He trapped Richie's legs between his own and used his superior height and weight to overpower the younger man. He reattached the manacles to Richie's hands and secured the chain to one of the bus seats.

Ebon stood and glared at the bound teen prostrate at his feet. He wanted him, badly. But unlike the two losers in the back, he understood the value of a live hostage. From the way those two were going at that other kid, he wouldn't make it till dawn.

No, he had a plan and he was going to stick with it. No fucking the blond until he had the power to keep him. That didn't mean he was going to be stuck with blue balls tonight, though.

"Shiv!"

The dozing man jerked awake. Ebon stalked toward him and dropped into the front seat. He dragged the former Bang Baby from his perch, pushed him to his knees, and unzipped his own pants. Shiv wasted no time. He had done this countless times in the Meta-Breed. Ebon always told him that he was a natural.

Richie was in hell. He couldn't bear to look at Keith; the guilt was painfully crushing him. He couldn't look at Ebon; the escapee was moaning Richie's name as Shiv gave himan expert blowjob. Richie tried to cover his ears with his arms so that he wouldn't have to listen to the filth in stereo. He kept his eyes focused on the ceiling of the bus to keep from staring at the nightmares come to life around him.

Which was why he was the only one who saw Backpack crawling across the roof.

* * *

Review? Thanks! 


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